


Intimacy

by SeiShonagon



Series: Support [3]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual, First Time, John Needs Hugs, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeiShonagon/pseuds/SeiShonagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Chas, together for the first time, in the "Support" 'verse. Written with assistance from a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimacy

Chas is clearly trying to drive him crazy. Standing slightly too close, touching slightly too long, letting John savor the feeling of the big man standing over him, sheltering him from the world. When they both bloody well know it’s something John can’t have.  
John knows he fucked up, that he helped drive the last nails in the coffin where his best friend had just buried his marriage. But he’s never before thought of Chas as one for revenge. He thinks he may have to re-evaluate that assessment.  
He’s grateful Chas doesn’t seem actually cruel about it. The other man has been exceedingly careful not to startle him from behind, or to trap him in corners, or to move threateningly when they argue, as they inevitably do. He’s tantalizing, not threatening, so John can live with it. Even if the temptation is driving him slightly barmy.  
Today, though, he wakes up even more tired and angry than he went to bed the night before, and can feel something dangerous bubbling under the surface, ready to erupt and make him push where he shouldn’t. He can’t deal with this, not this morning.  
When Chas bends close, looking over his shoulder at the scry map, that self-destructive daring comes to the fore, and instead of putting distance between them like he should, John closes his eyes and leans his full weight back into the other man, abandoning his work. Feels guilty that, for the moment, it’s entirely worth it, for the warmth of how they fit together.  
He’d been convincing himself he was reading Chas wrong for so long that he’s shocked when he responds, sliding his arms around John and putting his face in John’s hair, just breathing for a few moments. He lets himself do the same, not wanting to speak, not wanting to ruin the bloody moment like he always does. Until Chas whispers, “Finally.”  
When John goes rigid and twists away to stare at his friend, Chas starts bloody _laughing_.  
“What do you mean, finally?” John asks, and he doesn’t want to think about the petulant note in his own voice.  
John hates feeling clueless and off-balance; the knowledge that he’s missed the obvious is too close to feeling helpless, and he finds himself once again taking refuge in anger when Chas says, “For Christ’s sake, what do you think all this has been, John?” with an amused gesture clearly meant to encompass the last few days.  
The truth of how Chas is making him feel seems childish and self-pitying, and he supposes it is at that. But then, he admits to himself, that’s John all over. So he swallows his words, lest he say the wrong ones, deciding on a shrug and a challenging glare.  
Because Chas is offering him… what, exactly?  
“Oh, hell,” Chas mutters, and then he’s on him, all lips and scratchy beard. Lips crashing together roughly, Chas tilting John’s head back, grasping his hair with those big hands as though to keep him from backing away.  
He’s known Chas a long time, and, yeah, he’s wanted him from time to time, but John has always known himself well enough to never risk the complications. He’s poison when it comes to love, even more than when it comes to friendship. The girlfriends and occasional boyfriend, they always leave, usually sooner rather than later. His own damn fault for being such a bastard and a liar and a cheater, really. But he needs Chas, has since the start when he gave John a place to stay after another messy break up had left him homeless and broken-hearted once again.  
Ever since, John has told himself Chas deserves better than a nasty piece of work like him. And that he's only gotten worse since then, really. More to feel guilty for than he can properly keep track of.   
So John finally forces himself to pull away, backing against the edge of the table, suddenly afraid.  
"You don't wanna do this, mate," John says breathlessly.   
"Wanna bet? Even if you cheated, I'd win that one."  
"I'm poison, Chas," John says quietly, looking away. "Ruined everything I've ever touched. Even you."  
Chas cups John's cheek, tilting his face up to meet his gaze. "I don't care," he says simply, and kisses him again, more tenderly this time, almost gently. His tongue traces softly over John's lips, and he opens them despite his better instincts. Despite knowing there'll be no going back after they do this. The one true friendship he still has, the one person who still bloody loves him, and John is certain doing this will put everything at risk.   
Fuck.   
This is worth it.   
With a single motion, Chas knocks everything off the table behind John. And then he's on top of him, John all wrapped up in Chas, flat on his back on the hard wood, both fighting to tear their clothes away and keep kissing at the same time, because every kiss is a fire that's been smoldering too long.   
The dam between them bursts all at once. Chas barely manages to pause long enough to grab a condom, leaving John with a moment to start getting frightened all over again of what they are about to do.   
John is gonna ruin this, he’s sure of it, and he’ll be more alone than ever before.   
He stands up, disheveled and half undressed as Chas turns back to him, condom in hand.   
"We shouldn't," John says, shaky but determined. "You know this isn't the point of us."  
"What is the point of us, then, John?"  
John doesn't have a proper answer, and all his instincts tell him to flee, but as he starts to move away, Chas grips his wrist, capturing him, pulling him close. "I know you better than you know yourself. And I've watched you push everyone away. Except me."  
John pulls back to stare at him, at the familiar face he's been so grateful to see at all his darkest times. And John kisses him, because he can't help it, and chuckles sadly against his lips before kissing him again.   
There’s a pause that feels like an eternity while Chas waits and John breathes slowly, and finally John nods.  
He lets Chas draw him to the couch, lets Chas finish undressing him, lets this be a thing that is actually happening.   
All right. This is real. No matter the consequences.   
John can't take his eyes from Chas, can't look away, as Chas slips well-lubed fingers inside of him, as Chas takes him in his mouth.   
He lets this happen.   
There is a panicked part of him that rears up yet again when Chas is above him, pushing against him, about to enter him for the first time. John has to remind himself to let this happen.   
And it does happen. Chas kisses him as he fucks him, spreading him wider as he goes in all the way, a big bastard that fills him up hot and hard, and lust replaces the fear, and then it’s as it should be: just two poor souls finding pleasure in a world of suffering, and John is well-accustomed to what that is like.   
So he continues to let it happen. Lets Chas stroke him while he fucks him, begs for it harder until he comes, until all the searing fire vanishes, replaced by a pleasant sort of warmth as he relaxes, focusing on the pure physicality of feeling his best friend move inside his body with every powerful thrust. Lets Chas fuck him until he comes muttering John's name.  
Chas doesn’t separate from him immediately, and John buries his face in Chas’ chest, breathing in his scent and hiding his face at the same time. He savors the moment while he can, the closeness and warmth and safety of being with Chas this way, as he has wanted for longer than either of them have known most of the people in their lives.  
Longer than Chas ever knew Renée, even, and that thought is like a bucket of cold water. John shivers, and Chas withdraws slowly and carefully to pull back and look at him.  
“You okay?” Chas asks.  
John nods, immediately shakes his head. He finally shrugs and gives a slightly mocking laugh, says, “As I ever am, mate.” He lets go of Chas to let the other man clean up, and falls back on the sofa, eyes closed, resting a moment more before facing the music. He prepares an apology in his head, and braces himself to stand.  
Before he can move, he’s surprised to feel the sofa give under Chas’ weight once more as the other man returns. John’s eyes open to look resignedly at the other man’s face, expecting to see… he isn’t sure, regret, possibly anger or disgust at one or both of them. He certainly isn’t expecting the concern or affection he sees instead.  
His carefully-rehearsed words fly out of his head, and he stares in confusion. He feels a sudden crazed urge to look behind him, to see whom Chas must be looking at as if they bloody _matter_ , because surely it can’t be John fucking Constantine.  
Chas reaches to brush sweat-damp hair back from John’s forehead, and John leans into the touch, calming slightly. Somehow, incredibly, Chas is still here, and isn’t angry with him. John doesn’t understand how it happened, or how to make it continue.  
John decides, in a moment of terrifying clarity, to put his trust in Chas in this as he does in so much else. After all, it’s not as if he has many other models for how to live a functional life, and Chas was doing pretty well of it until John ruined it for him.  
Decision made, John is able to breathe a little more freely. He longs for a cigarette, but knows Chas probably won’t kiss him again if he smokes one right now, and he’d like to keep that possibility open just a bit longer.  
“Now what?” he asks. He hopes he doesn’t sound needy, afraid to ask for more than Chas is willing to give. But he has to know what comes next.  
Chas shrugs, seeming to understand. “That depends on a few things. What you want. What I want. What we’re willing to try.”  
John can’t resist a grin. “Liked what we just did pretty well there, mate. Seemed like you did too.”  
Chas snorts. “Yeah, okay. But are you looking for any convenient warm body, or something more?”  
John stiffens at the implication he thinks he hears – it’s not one he’s heard from Chas before, but the phrase has a familiar disparaging sound. “’M not a whore,” he says with a touch of anger.  
“Never said you were, John, but I don’t know what you want, and I need you to be honest with me.” Chas reflects John’s exasperation back at him.  
“Hey, you started this, mate. You finish it.” John instinctively avoids the question, knowing he shouldn’t; he can see them headed for argument, but has no idea how to prevent it.  
Fortunately, Chas does, and he relents where John can’t seem to, and sighs. “Fine then. I don’t fuck people I don’t care about. But now I need to know that you’re in this with me. Clear enough for you?”  
John can only nod, silenced by the implications. He knows he’s supposed to respond somehow, but there’s nothing he can say about how he feels that Chas doesn’t already know, and there’s nothing he can say about what he wants that he isn’t terrified to admit.  
And now Chas is looking at him expectantly, and he doesn’t know what to say.  
“Usually one uses words at this point, John,” Chas says. “Honesty helps.”  
Another pause, and then John manages to say softly, “I don’t know how.” Honesty. Relationships. John Constantine has quite a few skills, really, but neither of those is among them. He looks down and away. He knows he’s damaged on some fundamental level, and Chas deserves a whole person. He deserves a pretty woman and an adorable daughter and a lovely house in Brooklyn, not a scruffy, broken exorcist and a drafty mill house. He deserves someone who can offer him the normal life he clearly wanted.  
Chas reaches for him and tilts his face up, forcing him to meet the larger man’s eyes. “Hey. Look at me. Do you want to work at this?”  
John swallows. “Yes. But–”  
“Are you willing to try?”  
Pause. “Yes.”  
Chas lets go of his face, and slips the arm around his shoulders. “Then we work at it. We make it work. It’ll take some time figuring this out, but we have time.”  
John still isn’t so sure, he knows he’ll mess up, probably catastrophically, but he’s willing to pretend for the time being that Chas is right. And maybe he can forget the future for just a little while, and enjoy this, just the two of them, for a while. He doesn’t even have to look at the map again for a while; he got enough of a look before to tell that his next stop is on the east coast, somewhere in rural Pennsylvania. They can head out later today.  
Maybe first they’ll have time for round two.


End file.
